


The Imp of the Perverse

by Noir_Dix



Series: The Cardinal's Sins [2]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Copia & his many kinks, F/M, Hail Satin!, Other, alone time, boiled peanuts, ruined orgasm, satin fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-11-29 07:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18220058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noir_Dix/pseuds/Noir_Dix
Summary: This has been a very bad idea I've had bouncing around in my head for a while, now... I decided to RESEARCH!, & found out about legjobs. I did more RESEARCH!, & discovered the Chronicles of Mlle Fanchette. And, y'all know... I'm not really sorry.(I am sorry for my poor Cardi. This is just the tip, (HA) of the kink iceberg, I'm afraid...)





	The Imp of the Perverse

The Cardinal sat at the suite's massive mahogany desk, working some arcane magic with the church's books. Dix had long since given up trying to decipher what Zero wanted from him.

It was a chilly evening, & he wore a pair of soft, dark green, felt pajama pants. He'd grabbed her old Dr. Feelgood t-shirt from somewhere in the room, & finished the ensemble with some mottled, fluffy socks.

They were women's socks. He had been so enraptured with hers, that she had found some outsized versions, a while back.

There were also a couple of silky pair, that never were worn... As socks. On feet.

But, that was another story.

He was humming in an offhand, distracted manner... ("Love Game", by Lady Gaga.) He had an ancient adding machine, that was ticking away. His chestnut hair was loose & disheveled, & he wore no makeup. His sunken eyes were a bruised purple, with a web of broken blood vessels... It was one legacy of his dances with death.

She thought he was adorable, (admittedly, an acquired taste) & knew that under the desk, his toes were wiggling in the socks.

"Are you listening to me?" she asked, ready to go.

"Yes, dear."

She had thrown on a pair of sweats, & her old Metal Gear Foxhound t-shirt. Her friend, Keebie, was up to something in the church's massive old kitchen.

She grabbed her phone, just a pay-as-you-go burner number, & bent to kiss his cheek. He turned, grabbed her around the hips, & _kissed her_ kissed her, melting half of her bones in the process.

"I'll be back in a little bit."

"Mmm-hmm." he was back to tapping at that infernal adding machine.

She stopped halfway to the door.

"I mean it, Cardi. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

"Mmm."

She glared at him.

"You know... I have it on good authority that the Ghouls have actual tails."

"Mmm? You don't say."

"Oh, yes. And the guys supposedly have barbed penises. Maybe if Aether or Dew are around, I can ask to see theirs."

"Mmm."

She sighed & stalked out of the room.

He waited for the door to shut, proud of her for not slamming it. He sat back in the big old office chair, & the adding machine finally quit ticking merrily away.

He slid a hand down his front, to where his dick was already at half-mast.

He couldn't explain it. He'd risen at dusk, a good few minutes before Dix, as always. She'd told him previously about meeting with her friend, & now, he couldn't quite remember what _that_ was all about...

But, he'd become obsessed with doing something disgusting, & completely uncalled for.

His cock twitched in his soft pants expectantly.

"Haha, down, boy." he chuckled. A small wet spot had begun, & he could see his uncut head starting to peek out, outlined by the damp fabric.

His stomach grumbled ominously.

He frowned.

Fucking sabotage.

Vampires, as a rule, didn't get hungry the way normal folks did...

But, he still loooved food. Dix did, too.

They could only consume portions roughly equivalent in size to a hockey puck, however.

He had learned that the hard way, & still went on unfortunate benders from time to time.

He wondered...

"Jesus!" Dix answered the phone. Someone was laughing in the background.

"No." he said, smiling.

"I changed my ringtone to 'Faith'. That just scared the hell out of me." she grumbled.

"My angel-" he began, laying on some syrupy sweetness.

"Let me guess. It dawned on you that I'm in the kitchen, so, now you're hungry."

"Sì."

"Hmm. You want a nice chunk of bloody meat, or, a snack type thing?"

"There are snacks?" he was intrigued.

"There're always snacks. I'm getting ready to pop a can of boiled peanuts."

His eyes went wide. She'd told him, years before, (decades) that his cock tasted of boiled peanuts...

He still didn't know quite what to make of that knowledge.

"How did you-" as far as he knew, no one else in the church had her weird southern food hangups.

She had tried grits on him. He had survived. She liked coffee with chicory, which tasted of burnt tree bark... And, then there was okra. She loved it, & he was greatly entertained. (Little pods of pre-cum, he'd said. She was offended for all of a minute.)

"Mary." she said, interrupting his reverie.

"Mary?"

Since when did Mary do grocery shopping?

"Don't over think it."

Hmph. _We'll_   _see about that._

"Just bring me some meat."

"Anything in particular?"

He was hearing multiple voices.

"Surprise me." he was getting bent out of shape, thinking about Mary shopping for her. "Who all's there?"

"Oh, you know- Just Keebie & a couple of Ghouls... Remember Omega? He's here."

Sounded like a goddamn party.

"Well, have fun, dear..." he frowned at his boner, debating. "Be sure to ask the guys about their dicks."

She giggled.

"Aw, you were listening. Don't worry, I don't have to ask them, specifically. Did  you know Keebie's part elf?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Absurd. All of it. He was a vampire from the time of the plague. He had saved a blonde girl condemned to death for witchcraft.

But, this demon/elf routine was testing his patience.

"Settle down." she said softly, as he had gone quiet. "I'll be back soon... And, stay out of my underwear."

Shit. She _knew._

"I, ah- I have no idea what-"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." she interrupted him. "Now, be a good boy. I'll think of you, while I eat my peanuts."

He hung up the phone, & stared at the door. He hated the master suite. Back in his little room, he could just wedge a chair up under the doorknob. This room was big. The furniture was all big. It was a pain in his ass.

He looked at the huge old four-poster bed. Dix loved it. He'd tied her up. She'd tied him up. He'd finally gotten his mirrors up under the canopy. He'd also added another, behind the headboard.

His cock jerked again.

He really wanted to find an opium bed. Maybe he could send Mary antique-shopping.

He grabbed his erection, hand still over his pants. He slid down a bit in the chair, spreading his legs wider.

"She said not to-" he moaned.

He looked over at her trunk, which they had just recently found in storage. It was a mid-sized affair, not a huge wardrobe. There were a handful of pretty, pastel colored bags on top of it.

He untied the drawstring to his pants. He pulled down the waistband, wiggling a little to get it down to his hips, & setting his cock free. He wrapped his hand around himself, & thumbed his oozing slit, shivering.

"She'll have a fit, if I raid her new things..."

He groaned, looking at the bags again. Had Mary been buying her underwear? Surely not.

(He had.)

(Actually, Dix would have been quick to explain that he had merely picked it up for her.)

He knew she was expecting him to leave well enough alone. She probably had a whole little game plan, of what to show him, & when.

Like, last night-

He went still.

Last night. She'd worn a sapphire blue slip-nightie. It was exquisite, working with her alabaster skin & setting off her dark blue eyes.

She'd worn nothing underneath. He'd left all the lights on, & dropped to his knees to devour her cherry-blossom pink pussy.

He squirted a little stream of pre-cum.

"Where is it?" he asked his twitching member. "Where is the satin nightie?"

He stood, stretching, cracking his back a bit. He pulled off Dix's old t-shirt, laughing as his nipples pebbled.

It was still chilly, in fact, more so... but, he wanted to be naked for this. He wanted to slide the satin all over himself, & he wanted to fuck it. SO. BAD.

He dropped his pants, & enjoyed watching his cock bob for a few moments. He left the socks, because nothing said sexy like a naked man in fuzzy socks.

He looked around the suite, finally finding the thing folded haphazardly on the top of the laundry hamper. (Not in it.)

 _Why do I_   _want this so bad?_ he wondered. It had consumed him, wanting to find some soft satin thing of hers, & jerk off in it.

He toted his treasure back to the bed, & pulled the draperies all the way back.

He hated them, they tended to trigger his claustrophobia. He looked again at the door. He supposed he _could_ lock it...

He peeled the socks off.

_What if she came back, while he was-_

Oh, God. He could cum, just thinking about it.

He laid back on the bed, holding the nightie to his face & inhaling deeply. It smelled of pomegranates & mangos... &, further down, pussy.

Of course, she'd been soaking wet, when he'd eaten her... & had ended up squirting a little, herself.

There was a shiny little stain, that he didn't even hesitate to lick.

"There will be more." he cackled.

He laid the slip over himself. He started at his shoulders, smoothing his hands over his body. His nipples hardened painfully under the fabric, & he fingered them, which didn't help.

His cock tented the satin urgently. His hands continued their journey, travelling over his middle. The nightie wasn't quite wide enough to reach his flanks, which would have disappointed his Dix.

He paused at the small swell of his belly, another of her favorites.

_How to do this?_

He grabbed two great handfuls of the fabric, wrapping one hand around his cock, & reaching the other down around his balls.

Instead of jerking himself, he started to pump furiously into his hands.

"Ohhh, FUCK. That feels good."

He watched himself in the mirrors, spreading his legs a bit, & pulling his knees up, to really piston into the satin.

"Prendilo, piccola puttana..."

He was on the verge of throwing his hips out, when he felt a slight draft.

He turned. Dix stood in the doorway, holding a little parcel wrapped in butcher paper.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

He just sort of stopped, laying back against the bed.

"Why not charge admission?" he asked, (she had the door wide open).

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she asked, but, she did step in & pull the door behind her. "You're the one that left the door unlocked."

She stalked past the weird tableau of him on the bed, & put her package in the mini-fridge.

One of the Third's innovations, & one of the few things in the rooms that he actually liked.

She sat on the side of the bed.

"What's the matter? Did I ruin it for you?"

_Kind of._

"Who's a little whore?"

_Ah, shit._

"I'm sorry."

"I come back to you violently fucking my nightgown-" she was trying desperately not to laugh, "& calling it a whore, for its trouble-"

He looked sheepish. His hands were still  clenched in the fabric, around his equipment.

"Don't even try to tell me you're sorry. You're sorry that you almost threw your back out. You're sorry that the satin started chafing your dick. You are absolutely not sorry in any way for snarling at little whores to _take it."_

His ears were turning a brilliant red.

She pulled her lingerie out of his death grip. His cock was still rock hard, foreskin retracted, probably due to his frantic fabric fucking(©).

"Did it feel good?" she asked.

"It felt so fucking good-"

"Should I be worried?"

He blinked.

"Never."

"Hm."

She leaned in, & began to nibble up one of his inner thighs. She gently held his dick up, so that she could run her tongue along the underside, all the way from the base to the head.

"Salty." she said, as he shivered.

"Did you enjoy your snack?" he asked.

"Very much so, although... I may have overdone it."

She began to fondle his balls.

"Ohhh, God-" he groaned.

His cock jerked violently as she wrapped her hand around him. She almost felt sorry for what he'd put the poor thing through.

Almost.

"Try again." she taunted him, albeit carefully working his turgid member.

 _"What?"_ his eyes were half wild.

"God has nothing to do with this, as you're so fond of pointing out... Try. Again."

He writhed like something possessed.

"I'm gonna cuuum." he wailed, hands clenching in the bedsheets.

"You'll cum all over your soft, white belly, & you'll like it. Now, try. Again."

"Dix! Please..." he exclaimed. She worried a bit, because she'd left the door unlocked, herself. "Finish me, Dix."

That last came as a whimper. His eyes rolled, & she half-expected him to start speaking in tongues.

Cum started shooting out of him, & she tried to steer it, as per her prediction. He began shaking all over.

She held his rapidly deflating manhood for the moment.

She kissed him, before rising to head for the on-suite bathroom.

She returned with a roll of toilet paper.

He looked at her dubiously, as she tore off the first handful.

"Too much for tissue." she said, beginning to mop him up. "And, you know it."

He finally ended up curled on his side.

She toted the mess into the bathroom, took the (half roll) of TP back, & started turning off all the extraneous lights.

He'd have every light on, 24-7, if possible. She knew his problems... but, everything needed a break now & then.

He moaned when the room went dark, for all of a second, before she could turn on the bedside table lamp.

"I know, baby. I know." she murmured. She started turning down the bed.

"Lay with me." he implored her, still shaking, with big, sad eyes.

"I'm going to." she told him, nudging off her sneakers & leaving her socks. She pulled off the sweatpants, & did the whole 'pull the bra off under the shirt' thing.

"Get under the covers, you crazy man."

He had been watching her.

"What's wrong with sweatpants?" he was genuinely perplexed. "Your ass looks delightful in sweatpants."

She crawled into the bed.

"So... _round."_

And, he gestured.

He got under the covers, & wrapped himself around her like a clinging vine. She began smoothing down his hair, & pressing soft kisses all along the top of his head.

"I brought you a nice little steak. I had them sear it, just a tiny bit."

"Thank you."

"You should eat. I don't like you all shaky."

They lay quietly for a few moments, with her rubbing his shoulders.

"I think I'm gonna pass out for a while." he said.

"Key the shutters."

They'd recently had automated blackout shutters put in, for the daylight hours.

"Yes, Mama." he muttered, but, already was.

He slept like a log until sometime later in the afternoon, when he woke her up with gentle kisses & light caresses.

She had a feeling that he was still recovering from his earlier adventures, but, let him make love to her like a smitten young suitor.

Afterwards, she got the steak out of the fridge, & they both ate... waiting for the night to fall.

FIN.

**Author's Note:**

> I should have done chapters.
> 
> * Tell me what y'all think! (I'm not sure what I think, myself...)
> 
> * the-pomeganate-cassock on Tumblr.  
> * Dixie B. on fb.


End file.
